


A Chosen Path

by RadientWings



Series: Of Moments Unseen (Short Story Collection) [3]
Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Introspection, Post-Canon, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, also known as that elriel-as-mates!AU, but azriel doesn't see it, in which azriel and elain are idiots in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-06-14 14:12:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15390495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RadientWings/pseuds/RadientWings
Summary: When Elain was made anew by the Cauldron, she was gifted with two possible mating bonds, two possible paths.Azriel just never expected to be the one chosen.(An AU in which Elain and Azriel are mates.)





	A Chosen Path

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a while since I wrote anything for this fandom but I finally finished ACOFAS and couldn't help myself ;) Fair warning, there are some references to to ACOFAS but nothing too spoiler-y.
> 
> This was written for a prompt given to me by rosehallshadowsinger on tumblr, who wanted to see elriel as mates. I put my own little twist on it, with elain having two possible bonds, but I hope you liked it!
> 
> (Feel free to come yell about elriel and ACOTAR with me on tumblr - I'm radientwings there too)

It wasn’t heard of. It wasn’t. No one male or female should have _two_ bonds attached to _two_ other souls. But it was as the Cauldron willed it. Or so Azriel thought. Because when Elain was Made, Lucien wasn’t the only one to feel the sudden call of _mate, mate, mate_.

It was a painful thing, to have that sudden _snap_ in his soul as it was attached to another, a string, a _path_ between them as strong and undeniable as fate. But Azriel couldn’t even act on it, didn’t have the time, before he heard Lucien Vanserra – a male Azriel cared little for – whisper the very thing that was singing in Azriel’s blood. 

“You’re my mate.”

And just like that, it was over. Everything came crashing down in him, all the hopes, the possibilities. Azriel had never thought that he’d craved something as archaic as a mating bond until the moment it was ripped away from him. It left him bereft, _empty_. Here he was, his soul singing for its twin, its mate, only to find the other end of the bond already reaching to a different male altogether.

(Azriel hadn’t even considered that his mate might choose him, not at that moment, with an ash bolt through his chest and the pain of loss setting fire in his heart. He’d never believed himself worthy of such a pure, wondrous thing. Perhaps that’s why he’d followed after Mor for so long and with such devotion; how, after all, could you attain the unattainable?)

He managed to tamp down every latent instinct in him that roared at him to tear Lucien’s damned head off, managed to block off every facet of his fledgling bond and focus only on the more serious matter at hand; staying alive. It was humiliating, that he could do nothing but suffer in silence as his friends, his family, fought against the onslaught that was the King of Hybern and his Cauldron-damned allies. But there was that bolt – that blasted bolt – lodged in his chest, and there was poison ready to surge through his blood and end him.

 _Useless_ , his mind whispered. Utterly useless. What was the point of all his power, of his shadows, if he could do nothing with it when it was most needed? What was the _point_ of it all? (What was the point of it, if he hadn’t even been able to save his mate from a fate she was likely terrified of? Sweet, _human_ Elain, who had never wanted this life, but still treated him – the most terrifying of his kind – with nothing but kindness and respect. It was more than even his own people had ever afforded him.)

Only after it all, after their miraculous escape thanks to their very clever, very _reckless_ High Lady (and Mother above, Azriel would never forgive himself for letting her take the fall for them), did Azriel let himself examine this new bond in his soul. It was not yet made fully, but also not broken. No, it was lying in wait, dormant until two souls were brought together or torn apart forever.

But Azriel knew, _he knew_ , that this bond would never truly be his, that it would never sing between his and Elain’s minds. Why should she choose him when she had another male already vying for her hand? A male who, by all accounts, seemed more suited to her.

And besides, as the weeks and months passed, he saw just how damaged Elain had become in her new body, how she shied away from all contact with her supposed mate. No, Azriel wouldn’t add to her burden. He _couldn’t_. 

He had no expectations of her, would never force her into anything she didn’t want. Like his High Lord, he was no traditionalist, who treated the females of their kind like mere commodities, bartered and bought and _owned_. (He knew that his own mother, a servant too beautiful for her own good, had suffered immensely by the hands of such males. He would never do the same. Never.)

So he kept it a secret. From everyone. He used all the power in him to shut off his bond, though it was agony. Thankfully, lying was as easy as breathing in Azriel’s world – his greatest achievement and greatest flaw. It’s what made him Prythian’s greatest spy… but also left him alone, even among friends. There were very few beings that knew anything about who Azriel was, about his past. Fewer still, who knew any sort of details.

But even with it being a secret, Azriel couldn’t stay away, often drifting into Elain’s orbit. Would it be so bad if they became friends? Wouldn’t that ease his pain?

At least, that’s what Azriel told himself every time he went to see her. Besides, it seemed Elain could use all the friendship she was offered. 

Elain. By the Cauldron, _Elain_. His thoughts were so constantly filled with her these days, even with thousands of things he had to do, even with a _war_ looming. But he couldn’t stop himself. She was a rare kindness in their world, unfettered even by the traumas she’d been through. Yes, the others seemed to think she was broken by it all. But Azriel… Azriel saw her for what she was.

A seer, learning to use her gifts. A fae, unused to power and immortality and animal instinct. A female, who loved the simplicity and satisfaction of gardening and other household tasks, but who yearned for the complexity of love and family.

A human woman, stuck in a body she did not want and mourning for the life she’d lost.

So Azriel could give her patience and silent companionship. Could give her friendship and understanding. He even found peace in it, sitting by her side in her garden. Enjoyed speaking softly with her when she felt like it, even if it was about the flowers she was planning on adding to her garden, the new recipes she was learning with Nuala and Cerridwen. _Especially_ then. After all, Azriel rarely heard of anything other than bloodshed and death and betrayal. Elain and her flowers were a comfort. A wonderful comfort.

And, Mother above, she was just so _beautiful_. Everything about her. She practically _shone_ with it. Azriel ached at seeing it. He was used to the dark, had lived his first years in it, so how could he ever think he deserved _this_? How could he dare consider tainting her by forcing a bond with a monster on her?

He couldn’t. He couldn't. 

It was around this time that he realized the feelings in him were love. A love vastly different from the one he’d harbored for Mor for so long. _Real_ love. He was _in love_ with Elain. Cauldron damn him.

(He knew what a bad idea it was. Knew how horribly this could end and yet still his heart betrayed him.)

Even still, Azriel said nothing, didn’t even dare hint at his true feelings. No, Azriel waited and waited and waited for the day Elain would finally accept Lucien.

Part of him, the worst part of him, couldn’t help but be glad that she seemed to shun Lucien in the months after the war. It gave him longer to enjoy this tentative friendship between them without worry. He was sure that the moment their bond was secure, Azriel would no longer have a place here.

It was only after the Solstice that Azriel started to hope. He was a fool, really, to think that a bottle of tonic was some sort of sign. But no one could claim that the heart was logical.

When winter was finally letting up for the year and he and Elain began to enjoy the sunshine together again, she told him something that changed his entire worldview.

“I’ve told Lucien I wouldn’t be accepting the bond,” Elain said, voice soft and sweet, as she washed her hands in the kitchen sink, covered in dirt from the garden. Azriel dreamt of that voice, of those hands. It was one of the few good things his dreams brought him, the image of this lovely female.

He felt himself still where he stood beside her, washing his own hands; Elain had roped him into helping her with a single pleading look and shy smile. (If only his enemies could see him now, utterly in the thrall of this female with azaleas woven in her hair and stars in her eyes.)

“Well, it’s only understandable that you should want more time to adjust,” Azriel hedged, voice equally soft. He resumed washing his hands, carefully, carefully. He couldn’t let himself hope.

Elain reached over then, put her unblemished hand over his scarred one, stilling him. She tangled their wet fingers together, as if needing the strength. “No, I told him that I would never accept it. It didn’t seen right, to let him hope like that. Not when I already knew my decision.”

Azriel swallowed harshly, forced himself to look up and meet her eyes, found her already staring at back him nervously. “Then I feel I should congratulate you, it’s no easy feat to make a decision like that. Did he take it well?”

“As well as he was able. Although I don’t think he’ll make his way here again for a long time,” she admitted, playing idly with his fingers, still slightly soapy. She reached over to grab a hand towel, drying his hands with all gentleness, tracing his scars.

Azriel’s ancient heart thumped wildly in his chest, but he tried not to look too much into her actions. She’d started doing that lately, taking his hands in hers tentatively whenever a vision suddenly hit her or she craved closeness with another living being. Sometimes she leaned the slightest bit into his side, as much as propriety allowed her. Azriel was downright charmed by it, this need of hers to hold onto her human politeness even when sliding closer to him.

“That’s not your fault, Elain,” Azriel said now, giving her hands a gentle squeeze. “You owed him nothing and yet you still took your time to consider it, consider _him_. All you can do now is let him have his distance.”

She nodded, before cocking her head slightly, giving him a considering look. For a second Azriel thought maybe a vision was coming on but then her gaze turned nervous again rather than distant.

“There’s another reason I told him now, something I realized.” 

“Oh?”

She hesitated, still staring up at him, brown eyes filled with trepidation. A part of Azriel knew that if she didn’t say whatever was bothering her now, it wouldn’t ever come out. So he gave her an encouraging smile.

“What did you realize?” he asked, voice a mere whisper. He knew how to cajole people into telling him whatever he wanted to hear, but he didn’t resort to that now, with her. He just waited. Patient. Almost light-headed with it.

And then, so suddenly Azriel barely realized it happened, Elain rose to her tiptoes and placed the quickest of pecks to his lips. 

Azriel stood, stunned, as Elain pulled away, her cheeks bright pink. She looked at him for a long time, looked at his stone-still expression, before her own face shuttered, whatever hope that was there fading. It was only when she started to pull away from him completely that Azriel snapped out of his frozen state. He grabbed her wrist, gentle despite its strength, and pulled her back into his chest, crushing his lips to hers. 

Elain made a brief noise of surprise, before she melted into him, her fingers tangling in the fine material of jacket. Azriel cupped the side of her lovely face, encouraged her closer as their lips moved against each other’s. His other arm wrapped around her waist, holding her steady.

 _Mother_ , to have _this_. Azriel couldn’t quite believe it. Maybe this was another dream. Well, if that was the case, Azriel didn’t want to wake, like he had the hundreds of times before that he’d dreamt this very thing.

But this wasn’t his wistful unconscious showing him what he most desired. This was _real_ and that made it all the more beautiful. Perfect in its imperfections, because their teeth clacked together at first, making them both laugh, until Azriel corrected the angle with sure experience and _oh, that was it_. The kiss was relatively chaste, as kisses went, but it set his entire body on fire in a way he’d never felt before.

( _So this is what it could be like to be with someone you love_ , he thought.) 

After an eternity that was far too short, Azriel pulled his lips away from Elain, only to rest his forehead against hers. Her eyes were shining as they looked up at him, her cheeks a charming pink. He gave into the temptation that had been with him for so long and traced the line of cheekbone. She leaned into it, pressing a quick kiss to his wrist. His heart beat all the faster for it.

“So what was it you realized?” Azriel asked again, teasing.

Elain laughed, shaking her head at him fondly. She reached up to trace his strong jaw. “I realized that I didn’t need a mating bond with Lucien,” she told him, steadfast. “I already have you.”

In any other circumstance, those words would have made him the happiest male alive, but as it was, they stopped him short – they felt like ice-water down his spine. Because she spoke of the _mating bond_. And she… she didn’t know everything. Didn’t know that there was another bond in play here.

How could her decision ever be true if she didn’t know all the details? Maybe it was this bond between them that pulled her to him unconsciously, and not her true feelings.

(Cauldron, he did it again. Let his heart run away from him.)

So he extricated himself from her… because he _had_ to. He couldn’t allow this to continue under false pretenses.

“Azriel?” Elain asked worriedly, reaching for him.

He let her grab his hand, focusing on the sight of their linked hands. (He was sure he wouldn’t be seeing this again anytime soon.) “I… I’m afraid I haven’t been entirely honest with you Elain.” 

She made a concerned noise. “How do you mean?”

Mother above, this was hard. “You’ve made your decision without all of the information. I’m sorry about that,” Azriel managed to say, forcing the words out of his tight throat. He laughed bitterly. “I suppose it’s in my nature to lie and deceive. I _am_ the Court’s spymaster.”

Elain took his other hand in hers, giving both a gentle squeeze. “Azriel, it’s all right. I _know_.”

It was rare that anyone took Azriel by surprise. But here he was, well and truly _surprised_. “You– You do?” 

“Yes. You might be the spymaster, but I’m a seer. It took me a while, but I found the other bond in me, the potential for it, months ago,” she paused, eyes distant as she smiled softly. “There was a vision, just a small one. It was of the two of us, but the bond was there and it _sang_.” She met his eyes then, and he could see the truth in them, the undeniable truth.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Azriel found himself saying, even knowing the hypocrisy of it.

But Elain just looked at him knowingly. “For the same reason you didn’t. I was… I was scared. I didn’t know what it all meant. And I kept thinking that I’d wake up one day and this, _all_ of this, this new life of mine, was just a dream.”

“But it wasn’t.”

“No, it wasn’t. I know that now. And I wouldn’t change it, not anymore,” she said, smiling up at him. And, stars, if that wasn’t something – to see her, _smiling_ , as she spoke of her new immortal life. Perhaps her mourning period was finally over. Azriel couldn’t be happier for her; he knew all too well what it was like to hate the very body you lived in.

“Why… why me?” He couldn’t help but ask.

Elain took his face in her hands, her eyes alight with fierce protection. “Why _not_ you? You expected nothing of me, Azriel. You pushed _nothing_. You were my friend when I most needed one. You never ridiculed me for my simplicity,” he made a noise at that – because she might like the simple things, but she was never herself _simple_ , and Azriel _hated_ that people thought so little of her because she was different from most of her kind – but she shushed gently him with a hand, stopping him in his tracks. “Please, let me finish,” she said, smiling fondly. “You’re also unfailingly kind, yet you don’t seem to realize it. You’re _beautiful_ , Azriel. So beautiful. In _and_ out.” That smile again, this time wider. “How could I _not_ be in love with you?”

“ _Elain_.”

Her fingers were soft against his cheeks. “The Cauldron _gave_ me two possibilities, two fates. I choose this one, with you… That is, if you’ll have me.”

Azriel’s heart beat faster than it ever had in battle. He could hardly believe his luck that Elain – wonderful, irresistible Elain Archeron – was giving him this, was baring her soul to him. His entire body ached with love for her, full to the brim and ready to burst.

 _Please, let this be real_.

He pressed their foreheads together again. “Of course, I will. _Of course_. There’s _nothing_ I want more.” He turned to kiss her temples, her cheeks, the corner of her mouth, everywhere he could reach. Elain melted against him once more, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist.

“Do you know,” Azriel began, smiling so hard it hurt, “I think I was lost before you came along. I suppose there’s just something about you, Elain Archeron, that makes me _want_ to be worthy. I would have you for all of eternity.”

He finally leaned down to kiss her berry-red lips again, and this time not so chastely, their tongues chasing each other. When they separated, breathless, he ducked his head into the crook of her neck, breathing in her intoxicating scent.

“Mate,” he whispered. _Mate, mate, my mate_. _My Elain._

Elain froze under his hands for the briefest of moments, before she let out a long gasp. She gripped him by the roots of his hair, pulling his head up so she could search for his eyes, almost anxious.

“My mate,” she returned. “My _mate_. Can we–?”

Azriel knew immediately what she spoke of, that bond that still wasn’t complete. “Yes,” he told her, kissing her once, twice. “Yes.”

He stilled them then, keeping Elain locked in his embrace, faces so close their breath mingled. And he closed his eyes and let go of his iron grip on the string, the _path_ that connected them. Let it _roar_ to life.

And then finally, _finally_ , it snapped in place. Their elusive bond. And by the Mother and the Cauldron and every other holy thing, it was beautiful. Indescribable, this unbreakable link between them. Azriel felt Elain all around, felt her soul, full of brightness even with its dark patches. His own rose to meet it, followed the path to her until every bit of them was intertwined.

Azriel had never felt anything like it, would never feel anything like it, as he dove deeper and deeper until he didn’t know where he ended and she began.

He felt Elain’s happiness as if it was his own, understood her hopes and dreams and fears. Even felt her love for him, and, _Cauldron_ , if that wasn’t enough to nearly knock him of his worldly feet.

Elain’s laughter was like bells, her joy like the sun.

 _Oh, Azriel_ , her voice – the voice he’d dreamt of a hundred times – floated to him.

 _Elain_ , his mind whispered back, _sweet, lovely Elain._

They floated there for a while, in this beautiful space they now shared, full of light and dark, and happiness and sadness, all mingled together. It was strength, this bond, their strength. It was _them_.

And then Azriel whispered three words to her – words he hadn’t yet told her, despite all that had happened to them in this moment. This moment, that should have been an ordinary one, just another morning spent cleaning up in the kitchen, but had turned out extraordinary.

 _I love you_ , he said, letting the words and the truth of them ring out between them.

 _I know,_ she replied _, and I love you._

And their bond _sang_. 

As it would for the rest of their eternity.


End file.
